1935 - 1975 Eternal Love.

(Recommended: while reading listen to slow piano music. It is not mandatory)

September, 18th, 1975.

Dear Steve,
My love, my all, I wish you could hear my call for help. It has been almost forty years since you left me, and I still hope to hear your voice one more time. That last day we spent together, I remember you hugged me and told me to listen to your heart beat. I wish I could still hear it beat so close to my ear, feel the warmth of your arms around me. The slow thuds that used to make me relax next to you and fall asleep in your hug. I wish your eyes would look at me again, opening that acceptance of you in my heart. I wish all I could do was say hello to you one more time, one last time, and spend that last day with you all over again. I want to hold you the way you held me, and kiss your face slowly, thanking you for doing what you do, and for being who you are.
The moment we first met, I remember there was no way that you would leave me and go your own way. But after some time, I gave up, let you talk to me, and I got to know you. In time, I realized that you were exactly what I was looking for; everything in me knew you were the one I wanted. After those days, we began spending more and more time together, and all I could think of was you. Two years of pouring love into each other's ears, butterfly kisses and bear hugs, soft caresses on your face and mine, soft nibbles on each other's lips. It was all perfect.
Every time I saw you, I ran to you, I could not bare the distance, I could hardly wait to be in those strong arms that held me so tight against the body that carried them. I could not wait to run the distance, and you could hardly resist running to me as well. I remember the first time you came back from the war in 1932; you looked so happy, that I cried. I cried for the happiness of having you near me again, and for all the months I had spent on my own, trying to convince myself that you were fine, and that everything was going to be okay. I cried because of all the months we had spent sending letters back and forth, and for all the time we waited before we received the next letter, which most expressed how much we loved each other and how everything was. You cried because you could hold me one more time, because you saw me cry. You wiped the tears off my face and told me not to worry, that you were with me. We laughed then, and from that moment on, we spent every day together again, like we used to before you had left for the first time.
When the time came for you to leave for war again, we cried together one more time, and hugged so hard that we could hardly breathe. The past days had been the happiest days of my life. Days, weeks, I treasure in my old heart. I can still hear the beat of your strong heart which I heard those first days we spent together when we were twenty.
On September, 22 of 1935 I received a letter from you. It was dated: September, 18th, 1935. You could not tell me where you were or what you were going to do those next days. All you told me was that you loved me and that if something were to happen, you would always, always be by my side to take care of me and watch me while I sleep. You said that if you weren't to come back home, that you hoped that I remembered only the good and kind of you, and to forget whatever bad you had done, or whatever faults you had. I never found any bad in you, and all I remember now are the days we were able to spend together.
That letter was the last one I received that was written by your hand.
The next letter I received was on September, 24th, 1935. It was dated: September, 20th, 1935. It read: We are sorry to inform you that Mr. Stephen O'Brien has been killed the morning of the present day. I dropped it, and wept for what seemed like years. I then slept, and spent most of my time crying for you, even in dreams.
I miss your hands, your voice, your scent. I miss your words whispering in my ear whenever I hugged you, and your arms wrapped tightly around my fragile body. I miss you. That first day we spent together, I realized we were meant to be.
The memories are beginning to fade away, and I can no longer remember the sound of your voice. It has all been so long ago, and still, the love for you I felt in my heart when I was young remains. In the bottom of my heart, I know you will always be the only one who knew exactly how to love me, take care of me, and the only one who knew me from the inside to the outside.
All I ask for, and have been asking for, for the last forty years is to have you hug me again, and to hear your voice one more time. Just once, because you were what made me smile. After receiving that last letter you had written, I collapsed, and smiled only when being polite, but the sadness remained. It has been too long to remember, but I wish I could be young again, and be held by you once more.
There is no way of saying good-bye to someone who is already gone, but, still, everything counts. So, I bid you farewell my love, my heart, my soul. I say good-bye to you while I can, and still wish for that last hug and whisper of love. I missed you before, I miss you now, and always.
Your eternal love.
Sabrina.

From the Gates to the Wisdom

From the gates to the palace I have described for so long, I can tell you there is a winding path that will take you farther from home than you've ever imagined, and you will experience the most morbid and horrid of times on you way to the innermost heart of the dark kingdom. This path will lead you to your freedom, but it will also lead you to a part of you, which you do not want to know. A part which will make you forget your past and all the knowledge that came with it. All you have achieved through all the years of your life, will be gone as soon as you step across those gates. This is the only way into the dark palace, and the only way out, if you are able to find any. The grim creatures that wander through these places, and the dark magic that lives on the inside of these walls, belong to one master, and one master only: The Great Wanderer. He looks upon good and evil as he would a root or a flower. He has no mercy and shows no mercy. He neither lives nor is dead. He is infinite, but yet, he has an end. He is the lord of all lords, and believes in none and trusts no one. You must be careful as you walk in, and exceptionally careful when you speak. Dare not you look into his eyes, for he will never forgive nor forget the one who stares at him, or the one who dares speak to his eyes. You must bow your head, and he shall hear the cry for mercy, and the plea for forgiveness. Beware... For the road is treacherous, and the path an infinite staircase to the inside of the Earth. At the bottom, He awaits. Impatience marks His every word, and makes Him claw the ground which holds His paws. He will not tolerate the sound of another angry temper; for it is the end of His reign, and the beginning of a new era for this world and the subterranean world beneath our feet, and He knows it. He perceives it, just as He perceives that there is someone coming to take it all from Him. It all begins now, as soon as you enter those gates, as soon as you set your first step on the other side of these walls. It all begins now. Good luck, my son.

The way it goes.

Deep crease on your forehead, between your eyes, lips pursed, unhappy smile. That's the way you look at me now. That's the way you were not supposed to look at me, the way we agreed was the worst way to look at someone. I know you're talking to your friend right now, but I can't help but shake nervously all over. My hands won't stop trembling, and my body is making noises that indicate a future stomachache. I need to stretch my arms permanently, and yawn too much. This is exactly like the moment that comes before a very important test for which you studied for a long time to pass.
My nerves flutter, and now... I feel nothing. Just blackness, and thunder with no lightning.
I was happy... Until that moment. It will never be normal again.

I hate heat.

Normality is the most difficult thing to find.

It's incredible how short time becomes, even when it's longer that it really looks. Everything goes back to normal one second later, just after that time. You knew how you would react, you knew how it was all going to end, how it was all going to turn out, but you didn't mind, you knew you had to appreciate that moment. You knew you had to savor every bit of it, until it had nothing left.
It's amazing how it all finishes, how it all shifts and changes so that you can no longer witness that moment again, even though you wish to live through it all over. From beginning to end, life breaks us, and heals us. It makes us and it takes us down again. Every bit of it is as treacherous as it sounds, and it's just like an invisible, yet solid, path through which we walk. If we give a step in the wrong direction, we might fall down into darkness, but then again, we might not. If you misstep, you can put your hand on the ground right next to your body, and get up once more. But if the ground next to your body is quicksand, you might not be able to get up again, but then again, you just might.
Shake everything off. Have fun, and enjoy life. Savor every moment you live, and appreciate what is given to you in life. Smile.

Enjoy the journey.

If I wake up one day, and find you by my side, eyes closed, relaxed, I could think you once had a life where everything went the way you expected it to. Now, you live a life of surprise, a life you have to forget you had the day after, just to see what comes up next. Travel light, for the journey is long.

Now I look at you, trying to figure out what is going through your mind, as your dreams unravel into a shower of color. The moment I kiss you lightly on your eyelids, they flutter open, revealing a melted color. It all softens around you, the background blurs, and you are the only thing I see. I kiss you again, but this time on the lips, softly, savoring every movement. I feel how your hands glide on my body, on an unexplained journey, unseen by my eyes, and how your fingers entwine in my hair. The sound of your voice against my lips, and the tickle of the traces your hands leave on my torso, makes my skin get goose bumps. You whisper my name once, and again. I tremble, and you hug me closer, just to keep us warm. Now my hands trace the outline of your body, softly, with care. It all crosses over, under. It just happens, and you smile again, like you did the night before. Gently, you lean over and kiss me, carefully, and give up. Trying to focus again, you pull back, and stare softly at me. Now you hug me close, and I can't help smiling. My mouth spreads in a grin of happiness, and a laugh escapes my throat, making you join me.
Now, here we sit, hugging each other, and giggling in a whisper. I ask you: "how is it? How does it feel, to love someone, and be loved in return?" You just stare and smile. "Like this" is all you say, just before you throw me back against the pillows and tickle me, until I can't breathe. I'm speechless. I just cannot believe what I just realized.

What about? I have no idea.

Where do I belong? Is it here or there? Do I want to belong, or do I want to just be?
Time goes by,
in the blink of an eye.

Give your life to what you believe,
and finish what you wanted to achieve.

It all ends one way or another,
but the love you give lives in each other.

Somehow, it all turns out well,
and, looking forward, you begin to tell,
how your life will look,
even if you go by the book.

Start at the beginning.
You never know, you might be winning.

How I love the look on his face, when all he does is play the guitar, sing his favorite song, and smile. His face, marked after years of the same expression, staring into space, reading invisible lyrics. Peace makes him relax, look at ease, and close his eyes, as if he were sleeping. What a life, what a time! What a moment of pure love and passion, a moment of an understanding between musician, instrument and music. A song of a long life, a hard working man, and the love for his wife and his music. The life of this man, I notice. I know.

Home.

I want to find my home. The place where I can find myself, the place where I can feel identified. My place. I can't seem to get close to where I want to be, to where I want to exist, and transform into what I really am; ME. I want to be able to smile at the sky, open my mouth and let raindrops fall into it, run under showers of pouring rain, and cry whenever I want to. I want to be able to shift personalities whenever I feel like snapping at anyone, of suddenly grin at that same person. I want to be able to do those things without being judged, without being looked at strangely, without being stared at. I want to smile and cry and be aggressive  mad, then laugh again, shout, scream. I want to be able to do everything I want to do, whenever I want to do it.
But labels stop me from it. I can't act that way in a world that is ruled by prejudice, and labels from everyone. I find it very hard to find myself in a place where I can't be who I really am. I want to find my inner me, and make that person rule over everything else. I know I can do it, but I just find it hard that when I have to try and make it squirm through all the problems, conflicts arise every single time I try it. People who look at me as if I were insane, eyes that stare, bodies that move away, people who feel awkwardly uncomfortable, hands and shoulders that move restlessly away. Everything happens as soon as all this goes by.
Sometimes, the fact of bringing myself to reality, and the person that resides deep in my conscience, makes the people who are close to me move closer, and those who do not know me are wary, but as I am open and have no problem in bringing them close to me, I do just that, and they do. Opening to the world is like creating a magnet inside of you, and makes you happier, makes you feel better.
Right now, I cannot say I am happy. Because I am not, and every minute that goes by does not help either; it just makes it worse.
I want to find myself the way I once did. I want to see if I can. I want to smile again, but before that, I want to talk to someone who can understand me. Nobody seems to be in that situation right now, so I have noone. I just wish so much that I would.

The delight of being alive.

One night after another. One that precedes the next, and the next preceded by this night. Moments, seconds, hours, days, months, years. Time. A measurement. A mere second in what will come next, what we will go towards. The moment which we cannot control our senses, our destiny, our emotions. The second we discover we are infinite. We are infinite. We are what we choose to be, and what we decide. We love the way we think we deserve to be loved, and so do others. The night is back, and we do not know where we are headed, what we are looking for.
Imagine living in a moment between the beginning of the end and the end of time. A fraction of a second that makes you focus, concentrate, meditate on that thought. A moment of daylight when nighttime is not to be seen for a long moment. Imagine that - for that one second - you've got everything, everything you've ever wanted. Still, there is a certain hole, a blackness you cannot explain to yourself or others. There it is, waiting, holding its ground for you to remember it, to consider why you think you have everything. You believe in that thought, you ponder over it, and open your mind once again, trying to focus on your happiness, and not the emptiness you feel. The day begins to fade away, leaving twilight to show, and eventually it is nighttime. Darkness shows itself again, one more time, reminding you of that second in time where you found a void in your life. The hollowness you feel in your chest weighs on your body, your heart, and depletes you. Your back arches to the front trying to fight it, but all you get in response is a word. A simple word which has more meaning and power than anything anyone can ever imagine. A word that fills anyone with possibilities, a future, and happiness for ever and always. You concentrate, focus, on that word, silently.  In that short second, in that moment, everything just happened. Everything is what you've just witnessed. It is all that has an ability to shake your world apart, and reconstruct it in that second, in that exact moment when you cannot control anything anymore. Nighttime fades and the sun begins to shine, the clouds clear after a rainy night, a rainy moment, where tears flooded your cheeks, and blinded your eyes. What you did not notice is that even in nighttime, light shines. A light that has an intensity to fly for years across any void, any emptiness, any moment. As the day floods your eyes, and fills them again with joy, you hear the loud cry. Yes, it calls. Yes, is all you hear again and again. That word makes you believe, makes you glad you are alive, just so that you can hear it. YES is the word that had you waking from that black vastness, letting you out of the hole you were deep into. Keeping you awake now that it can, and making you shine once again. The torso you had left bent over your legs, straightens from the back, letting your body, your life, shine once again in that fraction of a moment, during the last second of time. You understand the meaning now, and look up to the sky and watch as the air opens up and greets you with light smiles and breezy happiness as it once promised it would. You feel the tug at the sides of your lips, and give in to a grin that produces light by itself, the light you have been waiting to see. Gladly, you soak your body in that happiness, and wish everyone to have the same you have witnessed, you have had, in this second, this moment, this last fraction of time in your life: the delight of being alive.

Life. It's like a boiling pot, where I'm the tomato sauce bubbling inside it.

What the hell is wrong with me? I go back and forth. I get up and sit back down. I look forward, but then want to look back again. Can't I stay still and look at where I'm standing right now? God Almighty. What is this? Although, I still need to look forward -a close future- and smile about it, because I still can.